


Flu Season

by drunkonsmut



Series: The Doctor and the Professor [11]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, nurse!Chilton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-23
Updated: 2014-06-25
Packaged: 2018-02-05 22:10:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1834009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drunkonsmut/pseuds/drunkonsmut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're sick and Chilton decides to look after you. He is, after all, a trained medical professional.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A reader, Marleen, suggested some caregiver!Chilton to change things up a little. I hope you like this.
> 
> I had started a whole different thing with a car accident and blood loss and angst a plenty, but it got too sad and wordy and it may have been the product of all the telenovelas I've seen in my youth. I wanted to do something cute. 
> 
> Some flu things might be a bit exaggerated for fun and convenience, I had the Parks and Rec's season 3 episode in mind for the hospital part.

You were already sluggish and woozy when you got back to your apartment after visiting Frederick last night. He had eyed you critically as you got into your car and advised you to take the day off tomorrow and rest, it could be the flu. You dismissed it, you weren’t sick and you had a faculty meeting in the morning and you weren’t missing it.

The dean was going the presiding it and that woman was awful. Mrs. Felicia Parker, you had the distinct feeling she didn’t like you. She thought herself an eminence in Renaissance art and her writing was of the most arduous and pompous type. You didn’t like her either. You had told her to stuff it when she came to you once to critique your explanation of Boticelli’s _Minerva and the Centaur_ in one of your introductory classes, after one of her ‘quality rounds’. She came to you with such attitude and talking about her first-hand investigations in Florence, you couldn’t help yourself.  It wasn’t one of your shining moments, but you didn’t have a pickle to care about anymore.

In retrospect you shouldn’t have had any hope for the future of the course proposal you gave her last week. But alas, Ivan still needed your moral support for when he inquires about funding for his project in the meeting.

You woke up with energy and to a text from Frederick asking how you felt.  You replied your good health and confirmed to lunch with him. After showering and dressing, you had breakfast and two cups of coffee while reviewing some notes. You had an early class before dealing with that old bat.

On the ride to the university a drumming headache settled behind your eyes and a nasty cough developed. In class, an itchy heat started crawling under your skin. You trailed off a couple of times, blinking up at the images you were showing to the students. The portrait of doctor Gachet had nodded at you and Jeanne Avril did the can-can.

By the time you entered the dean’s conference room, you had thrown up in the bathroom and were feeling like death. You spent most of the time trying to focus your eyes on the speakers and not sigh out the sudden fatigue. Ivan eyed you worriedly as you rubbed your temples and your skin flushed with fever. You couldn’t even get mad when the dean pointedly informed you that she didn’t find the course you proposed to be fitting to the program.

After Ivan was shut down as well and the meeting ended, the dean approached you. Your vision was a bit hazy around the edges and you were sure she was speaking, her mouth was moving. But everything in you went to the lurch in your middle that had you bending over and emptying your stomach.

\--

Frederick had just arrived at the bistro you were supposed to meet when he got a call from your phone. It was Ivan’s exasperated voice on the other end. Chilton’s stomach plummeted to his feet at the unthoughtful explanation of “she’s at the hospital, dying and delirious”. But your friend was quick to correct himself that it was just the flu when he realized his dramatic wording was not appreciated. 

“Who says something like that?!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! It was distressing, she looks like death frozen over and threw up in my car.”

Frederick aggravated huff would have blown away a straw house. “Never mind, what’s her room number?”

He wasn’t eager to go to the hospital, specially the one where he spent so much time in. The prospect of being there again made him anxious. But he knew you didn’t like it either and you would be pleased with him visiting.

 So he stopped at his florist, picked you up a cute little bouquet and was now walking briskly through the hospital. Your floor was overflowing with the flu-ridden, every stranger’s cough added speed to his step. Even when he had gotten his flu shot, he felt uncomfortable in the germy environment of these institutions. Another reason for specializing on the sickness of the mind, it was cleaner.

He wants to check on you and be out of here quickly.

Ah, here's room 13. The door’s ajar and he hears a male voice as he walks in.

“Brian and I work together-oh, hello!”

All three heads in the room turn to the door. Your face breaks out in surprised grin, “Frederick!”

“Good day, agent Price. Agent Zeller.”  He greets them as he walks to your side, giving you a small smile as you reach for the flowers. He notices your glazy eyes and clammy parlor.

Your bed was next to the door. The curtain separating yours and Price’s was drawn back to allow you to see one another.  He feels the curious eyes of the agents on him, it makes him tense.

“I hope you’re recovering well of whatever ails you.” He adds, not wanting to fall into an awkward silence as you have decided to bury your face in the flowers.

“Yes, quite. Thank you. It’s just the flu, missed my shot at the lab.”

“How do you know each other?” You ask, having pulled away from the bouquet and now blinking your eyes between them.

“From my collaborations with the FBI.” Frederick supplies quickly. Really weren’t there more rooms and more people in this damn place?

His answer seems satisfying enough as you nod your head rather exaggeratedly. Price was smiling at you, amused, his pale skin looking a little grey.

“Yes. Well, let’s leave them to it, Jimmy.” Zeller says as he walks between the beds to pull the curtain close. Good. The agents wave at you before giving you privacy and you wave back.

Frederick places a hand on your forehead when you turn to him, you’re all sweaty and burning up.

 _Aren’t they cute?_ You mouthed at him. He raises his eyebrows skeptically, “If you say so.”

He wipes his now damp hand on the sheet covering your legs, you chuckle tiredly.

“I told you to rest, that you were sick.” He tells you as he steps away to reach for the clipboard at the end of your bed.

“Yes, doctor.”

“But you didn’t listen.” He purses his lips and looks over your chart.

“No, doctor.” 

A 102 fever, dehydration and a cheeky attitude. You had been put on serum and given your medicine just before he arrived, so that’ll be kicking in soon. You’ll be fine.

“Aww, a teddy.  He’s so cute.” You finally notice the small teddy bear tied to the bouquet on your lap.

“I thought you’ll like it.” He walks back and takes the bouquet from you to put it on the night table, before sitting at the edge of your bed. You kept the teddy.

“Has a little suit jacket and tie, it’s adorable. Thank you.” You pull at the teddy’s clothes, “I’ll name him Freddy Bear.” You hug it to you and you lean back to rest against the raised surface of the bed.

He hears a loud snort from the other side of the curtain. He flushes red and rolls his eyes. “We’ll find a better name for it later.”

You pout. “But I like it. Oh, I must tell you! Come closer.”

You lowered your voice at the last phrase and beckon him with a finger and wide eyes, all signs of a great revelation. He indulges you and scoots closer. 

“You know Mrs. Parker, the dean?”  You whisper mutinously.

He nods, eyebrows raised high.

“She told me my proposal was inadequate and was so mean to Ivan, and you know what I did?”

“What?”

“I puked on her ugly snakeskin shoes.”

He laughs at the self-satisfied look on your face. “Good for you.” You were going to be mortified once the delirium sets off.

“Yeah.”

You reach to pat the hand he had resting over his thigh and he catches your fingers.

“Thank you for stopping by; I know you hate this place. Sorry about lunch.” You tell him, your eyes were getting heavy.

He raises his cane a little from the ground and flicks it in dismissal. “I wanted to see you anyway.”

He stares at you for a moment. The light blue hospital gown, the slightly disheveled hair, the stuffed bear resting by the crook of your elbow and the sleepy smile, made you look very young and very different from your put-together self.

It was probably the fever or the medicine, but you were giving him an unabashedly loving look. He hasn’t done anything to warrant it and was sure he didn’t deserve it. His chest feels tight under your gaze. It made him think of certain possibilities he could only hope for. But right now wasn’t the place or time to contemplate any of it. He should leave you to rest.

Giving your hand a squeeze, he stands up. “You need to sleep to get better. I’ll give you a call later today.”

You nod, “Alright, doctor.”

He thinks it for a moment and soon leans close to place a kiss on your forehead. It earns him a giggle from you and he feels his cheeks a bit hot. He smoothes his hand over his jacket and waves before turning around and exiting the room.

Two unattended children almost knock his cane out of his hand as they run through the crowded hallway and a wandering old man in a half-open gown bumps into him. Ew. Time to get out of here.

\--

He stayed late in his office that night. He thought of visiting you again but didn’t want to do it there nor seem intrusive with his presence as you recovered. Plus, you were bound to be knocked out for most of your stay.

Just before heading for home, he settles on the leather couch and calls you.

“Hello?” Your voice was hoarse, he hears you clearing your throat.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been beaten with a bat.”

 “You should be better by now.”

“It doesn’t feel like hell’s taken residence under my skin anymore.” His lips pull into a small smile at your sour tone. It was comforting knowing you could be just as grumpy as him.

“That’s good. Do you need anything?”

“Well, there’s a book in the duffel bag Ivan brought me. I’m too weak to even reach for it, you can come over and get it for me with your big, strong hands.” You tried to make your voice sexy but ended up in a coughing fit.

“I think Price can handle it. You two were getting along.”

“He’s chatty and sweet. He’s opened me to a whole new world of bees, you know.”

“Has he?”

“Did you know that bees have five eyes? And that the male bee’s ejaculation is so powerful it’s audible to the human ear?”

“Fascinating.”

“Indeed, but he’s sleeping now. At least I got Freddy Bear to keep me company.”

He groans and covers his eyes, “You are not naming it that.”

“I’m sure you bought him because he looks like you. Thought I see you more like a cat.”

“I did not-What?”

“You did and you are. You’re cute, moody, and mistrustful and you like having your hair petted.”

He sputters a bit at the description but can’t really argue against it. He likes it when you call him cute.

“Hm, and here I was about to be gallant and offer you a ride home when they let you out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shout-out to drbabelgideon on tumblr for her fabulous FreddyBear tag that served as inspiration for the teddy.
> 
> Stay tuned for Chilton and chicken soup!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope this is not as cheesy as I think it is.

The flu bug seems to have half the city in the hospital, so the doctor let you off quickly with medicine prescriptions and the promise of rest. You were ready to go by the afternoon the next day and thought of getting a cab home. But after Frederick’s adamant text that you stay put because he’ll be right there, you waited for him equal parts aggravated and touched. You just wanted to sleep in a comfortable bed as soon as possible.

At least you had Jimmy to chat with as he also got ready to leave and were able to enjoy Frederick’s awkward smile and wave when he was complemented on ‘keeping such lovely company’ by the agent.

Frederick actually left work early to pick you up and you though it very sweet, if a bit too much. He didn’t have to do all this.

The ride to your place wasn’t long but you still dozed off, only to wake up as the car slowed down and realize you were entering Frederick’s gated community.

“Why are we stopping here?”  You ask as you rub your nose and sniff.

“Uh…I’m taking you home with me.” Fuck. It was an impulsive decision. He was about to take the turn to your apartment building, but then he glanced at you. You were tired and sick and had somehow managed to curl yourself in his passenger seat to sleep. You almost looked like a kitten yourself.

He didn’t like the thought of leaving you alone in your tiny, albeit cozy, apartment. Anyone else he could drop off like old luggage, but not you. You had looked after him before and he wanted to look after you now.

“I thought you could be more comfortable here…with someone.” He looks at you quickly before taking a right turn to his street.

“Frederick, I don’t want to put you out more than I already have.”

“You haven’t. I…I can drive to your apartment if you want. But what if your fever comes back? I am a doctor.” He feels like scrambling for a proper reply, not realizing he could just say the truth.

“I’m not going to be fun.”

“I’m not asking you to entertain me.” He says as he parks at his house.

He licks his lips and picks at the lining on the steering wheel, “Just asking to let me take care of you.”

You stare at him and he feels heat crawling up his neck. You blink and your face softens into a smile. There was that look again. It’s the sort that has started to make his chest ache. God, don’t look at him like that.

“You’re sweet.”You tell him as you turn to exit the vehicle.

\--

He looked down right offended when you jokingly suggested he just let you camp out on his sofa.

You let him take you upstairs to his bedroom and watch him fuss about as you search your duffel bag for something comfortable to wear. He sets up a side of the bed with extra pillows and blankets, brings out a tissue box, even a glass and pitcher of water to put on the night stand. When you come back from changing in the bathroom and washing your face, he’s organized the flowers he brought you yesterday in a vase next to the pitcher.

He’s standing at the foot of the bed looking that the prescriptions you had left beside your bag. He looks at you seriously and points to the pillows, “Rest.”

You purse your lips to not smile and crawl into bed. You sigh at the softness of the sheets and reach for the teddy bear before settling in and pulling the blankets to your chin. He’s looking at you as if assessing how well you gathered the blankets around yourself.

“Are you comfortable?”

“Very.”

He nods as he tucks the prescriptions into his jacket pocket and walks to your side. “I’m going to get your medicine.”

You open your mouth to tell him he didn’t have to, but he lifts a finger as if to reprimand you. “Don’t protest. Do you want anything else?”

He’s cute when his trying to be serious. “Some chocolates would be nice.”

“Alright. Now, hydrate and sleep.” He stares at you until you drink from the glass.

He then reaches to pat your head awkwardly and gives you a kiss on the forehead. You can’t help the giggle this time either.

He looks a bit miffed.  Before he turns around, you stop him and grin as you present him Freddy Bear. “He’ll like a kiss too.”

He glares at you. “I don’t think so.” He ignores you as you pout, grabbing his cane leaning on the night table and turning around. 

“Thank you, Frederick.” You tell him, laughing softly, as he exits the room.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re welcome.”

\--

He had your medicine and chocolates when he decides to make you chicken soup for dinner. You had also made him some a few weeks ago for his cold. You would like that.

His abuela’s hardy recipe always lifted his spirits when he was sick as a kid. He calls her from the car to get a list of the right ingredients. Thought she almost made him regret it completely. Apparently, for her, making chicken soup for one’s…significant other…was akin to engagement.

“Is it the professor? I didn’t know you were so serious about her.”

“She’s just sick, she’s resting at the house-“

“You’re living together? How I’ve prayed for Oshun to send you someone good! Here I thought I wasn’t going to live to see you married.”

Fortunately he was still parked; he would have driven off the road with that last statement. “That’s nonsense, Tata. Just give me the recipe.”

“Lo que tu digas, mijo. Give me one moment, I’m an old woman.”

Almost an hour and a bag full groceries later; he was back home. It was still early, so he left everything in the kitchen and went to check on you.

You were fast sleep in a cocoon of blankets. Only a sock-clad foot poked out, telltale of your presence. He gives it a curious nudge and you pull it back quickly. You stir under the blankets and he panics, he didn’t mean to wake you. But you fall still once again and he sighs.

He might as well catch up with some work. He starts to take off his work clothes to be comfortable while he answered some emails.

\--

You awaken to the distant and soft sound of someone typing. Takes you a moment to remember where you are before sighing happily at the warmness enveloping you. You were getting progressively better, still fatigued but your chest didn’t feel so tight anymore and your throat didn’t bother you. Damn nose was still runny.

Hmm, the typing doesn’t seem that far away any more.

You turn inside your blanket bun and sneak a hand out slowly toward it. Soon enough you bump into something, soft cloth and hard underneath. A knee? You poke gently and move to pinch it but a big hand falls on yours to stop it.

“I never expected such harassment to come with this job.” You hear him say.

You shift and pull at the blankets until you poke your head out. “Hello.”

“Hello.” He answers likewise as your eyes focus on him. He’s sitting next to you on the bed, back resting on the headboard and laptop over his thighs. He has changed too, was wearing nice pair of linen pants and a black shirt and…Oh.

He was wearing his glasses. It wasn’t often that you see him with them on, but how you like them. Gosh, he looked so handsome. He reminded you of a professor you had a crush on when you were an undergraduate. So who could blame you if your smile was a bit dreamy?

“How are you?” He asks, smiling back.

“Better, just a bit of a headache.” You reply as you move closer. Your head comes to rest beside his hip and you stop moving once your nose bumps into him and you lay there with eyes closed.

“You want anything? Water, pill-“

“No, no, it’s alright. Just stay there.” You tell him.

You feel his hand hovering over your head for a moment before he treads his fingers through your hair. His thumb rubs little circles over your temple.

“That’s nice…” you mumble.

You enjoy the silence, occasionally interrupted when Frederick taps at his keyboard.

Suddenly remembering yesterday, you groan loudly in embarrassment.

“What’s the matter?” His tone urgent.

“I’m going to be out of a job come Monday.”

Oh. He knew this was coming.

You roll away to lie on your back, place the back of your hand over your eyes and sigh loudly. He thought the gesture dramatic, but he knew he couldn’t talk.

“They don’t fire people for getting sick.”

“I was hanging by a thread with that woman and I went and ruined her shoes. She’ll either fire me or find a way to stick me teaching freshmen eternally. All my years of grad school gone to waste. ”

You were actually worried. What could he say?

“I’m sure your students would riot if they fired you. And someone like you won’t get stuck professionally either. You’re a good teacher.”

“You think so?”

“Well…I haven’t been to one of your classes, but I’ve learned a lot in a museum with you.”

“Really?” You move your hand to looks at him.

He nods. “You’re knowledgeable, perceptive and when you get excited about something to you look very…” _kissable, delectable, alluring_ “…you become very charming. Which is good...for teaching.”

He shakes his head slightly at the memory of your museum date. You had gotten caught up in explanation, your face flushed with excitement, your eyes bright, your lips red and you were standing so close with your arm laced around his and he had wanted nothing more than to take you on the sturdy antique table in the middle of the room.

You hum appreciatively and smile softly. “Thank you, darling.”

He likes it when you call him darling too.

He smirks at you. “If all fails, you could work for me.”

You turn on your side and lean your head in your hand. “Doing what? Pushing the food cart in your hospital?”

“I was picturing you more as a chambermaid, but if you want I could arrange to have you as my personal assistant.”

You swap his thigh with the back of your hand. “You’re picturing me in a maid’s uniform!”

Yes, he was. Feather duster and everything.

“Am not.” He replies, raising his chin haughtily. “Merely pinpointing some of your options.”  

\--

You had taken a long shower and were taking your time applying a fabulous moisturizing lotion Frederick had on the sink counter.

He had so many nice smelling things here, oils, creams, and fluffy towels. It had a great shower and tub that was a dream. You actually had a dream about it, featuring the two of you enjoying a scented bath and the untimely appearance of a swan bursting through the door.

You should probably tell him about it and act it out, he’d like that. Minus the swan part. You could just imagine his smug expression melting into one of desperate need under your ministrations.

Truth be told, aside from having Frederick himself, this was the other reason you liked staying over so much. It was almost like a hotel bathroom. You were half temped to ask him if he’d sublet it to you.

You feel so much better already and much in part thanks to Frederick. He has been so sweet and attentive. It tugged at your heart strings. As it did the sudden sound of pans falling and crashing from the kitchen. You had thought he was calling take-out when he says he was getting dinner.

\--

You were showering and he thought it would be nice to surprise you with the dinner.

Well, if he could manage to have the damn soup ready by the time you came out. He had seen his grandmother do this a hundred times. He should know it by heart. Should.

The chicken and vegetable simmered for quite a while. Everything was properly cooked, so he didn’t have to worry about poisoning you like that. He sautéed the chopped green onions and cilantro and he seriously hopes he didn’t over do it with the cumin.

The yuca, plantains and potatoes were tender. The broth was flavorful and the fideos were almost done. It didn’t taste like his grandmother’s, but it was okay. He was also having it for dinner, sans the chicken pieces unfortunately.

The kitchen was a mess. He used far too many utensils and plates than was necessary; the countertop was wet and cluttered. He had never mastered the whole ‘clean as you go’ concept.

He watches the broth as he stirs it. It was the first time he cooked you a proper meal.

He had made you breakfast before, but toast and fruit salads didn’t count. Well, the French toasts were really good actually. You always cooked him delicious things so he wanted to return the favor somehow. He hopes this is good enough.   

You were serious about this, right? He was. Especially after the realization last Saturday that he was…that he is in love with you. He’s been turning it about in his head all week, so it wasn’t just some euphoria stirred thought. He had been lucky enough not have shouted it mid-orgasm, or you probably won’t be here right now. It’s too early. You haven’t been seeing each other that long. You won't feel that way.

The sound of bare feet slapping against the floor alerts him of your presence.

“Do you need any help?” You call from the living room.

He can’t let you see this mess. He doesn’t want you even thinking about helping him clean up. Grabbing his cane, which has been leaning securely against the counter, and turning down the heat on the stove, he decides to stop you before you reach the kitchen.

“What are you doing out of bed?” He asks as he stands in the threshold to prevent you walking in.

“You can’t expect me to stay there all the time.”

You could look as cute as can be to get your way, like right now (hair fluffy and wearing a pajama set two sizes too big), but life has made him stubborn enough. “I can. Now, go to bed. You’ll thank me tomorrow.”

You step forward to try to pass him but he moves his cane to block your legs.

“To bed.” He repeats, looking very serious.

You step back and cross your arms over your chest, a smile starting to pull at your lips. “You know, if this wasn’t about me being sick this would be pretty hot.”

“Don’t try to distract me. Off you go. Shoo.” He actually swaps the sides of your legs gently with the cane as you turn around, ignoring your suspicious side glances.

\--

Sitting on the bed and waiting for whatever Frederick has planned, you stare at the book in your hands. You were sure Ivan was trying to unload this on you, though you’re not sure how he ended up with a harlequin romance. You’ve know each other for over a decade, so you would have known already if he indulged in these. At least he had the decency to put a discrete dust jacket over the ridiculous cover.

The door opens and in comes Frederick carefully carrying a loaded bed tray.

“Frederick, you shouldn’t-“ He shuts you up with a stare as his comes around the bed.   

“Just say thank you.” He says as he waits for you to clear your lap before he lowers the tray.

You look it over rather slacked-jaw, there’s a bowl of chicken soup, bread, a small plate carrying chocolate truffles, and the silverware and napkins all nicely arranged.

You give him an awed smile as he stands by your side.

“Taste it.” He prompts you as he scratches the back of his neck.

You pick up the spoon and try to scoop a mouthful of everything in it. It actually smells really good. You blow gently on it, hyper-aware he’s staring intensely, and bring it to your mouth.

You moan around your mouthful. “Oh! This is delicious, Frederick.”

Your compliment earns you a most brilliant, proud smile that makes your heart skip a beat.

“Come here.” You say as you reach for his hand to pull him. He bends obligingly and your hands cradle his face as you kiss his lips sweetly.

“Thank you.” You say softly, sincerely.

He averts his eyes bashfully as he straightens.  “Uh, you’re welcome.”

He stands there for a moment. “I’ll be right back…with my dinner…”

You watch him leave with a smile and wait for him to return before diving into your food.

\--

You ate and shared chocolates over a funny movie. He adamantly refused to let you help clear away the dishes. After settling back to finish the film, with you huddled under his arm and resting your head on his chest, a beeping alarm on his cell-phone interrupts the scene.

“What’s that for?” You ask.

“It’s time for your medicine.” He replies matter-of-factly, turning it off and reaching for the pill bottle on the nightstand.

“You’re keeping time of my doses?”

“You would have forgotten.” He tells you, handing you a pill.

You mumble your disagreement, having actually forgotten about it. You pop it into your mouth and wash it down with some water.

“You know, you make a cute nurse. Would look real nice in the uniform.” You tell him returning to your previous cuddling position.  

He huffs. “I’d rather stay a doctor, thank you very much.”

You stay silent for a moment, your fingers drawing circles absentmindedly on his belly.  

“Do you still have a white coat?” You ask.

“It’s somewhere in the closet.”

You hum in acknowledgement.

“Do you have a stethoscope?” You inquire in what you hope is a disinterested tone.

He’s silent for a while before answering, his voice telling you he knows what you’re up to.

“I think we can fit you in for a doctor’s appointment soon.” His hand giving your waist a playful squeeze.

You bury your face in his chest as you giggle at his suggestive tone, enjoying the vibrations and sounds of his own laughter.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This turned out much longer than anticipated. These dorks.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, know that feedback and suggestions are welcome and appreciated!  
> Thank you for reading.
> 
> P.S. If you would like to read an specific situation or have me include something in a future installment, you can write your suggestions in the comments!


End file.
